Throwback Thursday! Harry Potter and Hiking

I just wanted to check my emails.377540_2332551555511_1052839912_n

I’ve used Yahoo! since I was about eleven, and always used the same email address. To access it, you have to go through the Yahoo! website. It’s a tabloid, usually throwing information at me about the latest celebrities’ divorce or shocking things politicians have said. I usually ignore them, but today something caught my eye.

It was an article stating that Emma Watson was wearing fake teeth in the final scene of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. I watched the scene on YouTube; you can’t really notice them. Apparently that scene was one of the first they filmed, and they later decided to remove Hermione’s false teeth.

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Just watching the last scene brought back so many memories of being a kid. Mum used to read the Harry Potter books to my brother and I when were were little, so when the first movie came out we were a few of the first to see it. I was eight years old in 2001, and literally grew up with Harry Potter.

The music from the scene reminded me of sitting in the seat in the cinema, so happy to be watching the book come to life, sitting beside my mother, my mum’s best friend Clarky, and my brother. We watched it together four times at the cinema.

These memories led to others – night time trips up to the Isle of Skye, Scotland for last-minute getaways, camping and hiking, drinking coffee from a flask after a chilly walk up a mountain, and even riding the Hogwarts Express train itself on one particularly exciting trip out at York.

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Nostalgia is a mixture of happy and sad feelings – happy because of the lovely reminder to simpler times, and sad that those happy feelings will never be fresh and new again. Harry Potter is so widely known now that it isn’t exciting anymore. You can’t ride the Hogwarts Express on a special day out from York to Scarborough now. I’ll never be eight years old again, packed in the back of a car with pillows and sleeping bags and driving up to the Isle of Skye in the middle of the night.

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Fond memories are just that… memories.

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